


My Home

by MSpataro210



Series: Season 12 Inspired [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x15, Between Heaven and Hell, Caretaker Castiel, Coda, Coda to 12x15, Confessions, Cute Castiel, Cute Dean, Dean Talks About Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Dry Humping, Family Problems, Feels, Hurt Dean, Insecure Dean, M/M, Powerful Castiel, cute moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:03:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10218851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSpataro210/pseuds/MSpataro210
Summary: Dean might have said he'd accept Sam's decision, didn't say he would like it.  He needs some space, just so he can deal with the racing thoughts in his head.  But when Cas drops the perfect distraction in his lap, how could he say no.  But will this really distract him from his problems, or make him confront even more of them?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I hope y'all liked last night's episode as much as I did. Although I could have done without a few things, my only hope is that through these alliances (Dean and BMOL, Cas and Heaven) it just brings Dean and Cas closer together!
> 
> Anyway, this fic was originally thought up last week, then this week's episode happened, and I tweaked it all for the better!
> 
> Enjoy!

            Dean passes the Bunker for the fifth time, pulling in to the garage before driving off again. He can feel his phone vibrating against his thigh.

            ‘ _Sam…_ ’

            He presses harder on the gas pedal, the sound of gravel kicking up in the background. Dean turns the knob, Plant’s voice howling louder in the night. There’s a tic in his jaw, and his fingers start to cramp from the vice he has on Baby’s steering wheel.

            The vibrating stops, and then it picks up again.

            “Fuck-“

            Dean’s violently jerks to the side of the road, parking haphazardly and tearing the key out of the ignition. He yanks his phone out of his pocket, not bothering to check before answering.

            “What is it?” Dean snarls into the receiver.

            “…Dean?”

            Dean blinks, a lump forming in his throat and fingers going slack around his phone. He coughs, regaining his hold before it falls.

            “Cas?” Dean asks, “Why are you calling?”

            “Sam,” Cas answers, “Asked me to call you?” There’s confusion and concern woven into his question, and Dean can’t help the smile tugging at his lips.

            “Of course,” Dean sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

            “Are you alright?” Cas continues, “He sounded worried…”

            “He’s just guilty,” Dean says, glaring out his side window and into the night. He lets his fingers play an erratic rhythm on the steering wheel.

            “Guilty?” Cas asks, “For what?”

            “Lying to me.”

            “I thought you would have gotten used to that,” Cas tells him, deadpan and blunt. Dean can’t help the snort that escapes him.

            “Me too,” Dean says, “I guess, after not doing it to each other for awhile…”

            “Good things can’t last forever, I guess.”

            “I wouldn’t say that,” Dean smiles, “you’re still here, aren’t you?”

            Cas doesn’t respond. Instead, Dean hears some rustling, and then the rushed, muffled conversation of Cas and someone else. Dean scrunches his brows together, trying to decipher what they are saying. He’s startled out of his long-distance eavesdropping by Cas speaking.

            “I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas says, “Did you say something?”

            “Nothing,” Dean blushes, “Not important. You… with someone right now?”

            “Just a lead,” Cas tells him, voice warbling. Dean squints and pouts.

            “Know where Kelly is?”

            “No,” Cas sighs, “But I do know someone who might. An old contact of Dagon’s in Sterling-“

            “Colorado?” Dean asks, “I mean, I could probably make it there by lunch if I ignore the speed limit and sleep, but who knows.”

            “You’re coming?” Cas yelps, startling Dean, “I-I mean… Dean, there’s no need-“

            “Look,” Dean cuts him off, “I need to cool off before I can face Sammy again. Maybe do some light leg work… and if there’s one place to relax it has to be _Colorado_.”

            “I… don’t understand.”

            “I’ll show ya, Cas,” Dean laughs, winking for no one to see, “trust me.”

            There’s more rumbling on the other side of the line, and Dean can make out a few of the words. Not enough to tell whom it is, but just enough to send a slight warning up his spine. Cas is back on before it can grow.

            “I would… I would like that, Dean.”

            Dean smiles. No matter how weird Cas had been acting, the honesty in his last comment eases his doubts-for now.

            ‘ _No use worrying, anyway_.’

            “I’ll start driving-“

            “Shouldn’t you pack?” Cas interrupts, “Sam said you left in such a rush-“

            “Oh… yeah,” Dean sighs, “I’ll get right on that.”

            “I’ll text you when I’m there,” Cas says, “Goodbye Dean.”

            “Bye Cas.”

            The line goes silent, and Dean breathes out a sad huff. He pulls up Sam’s name and shoots out a quick text.

            **_Back whenever._**

            He tosses the phone into the passenger seat. Starting Baby back up, he drives out towards Sterling.

            ‘ _Good thing I forgot to unpack_.’ 

* * *

 

            “I don’t like this, Castiel.”

            Kelvin glares at Cas from the opposite side of the booth, boring a hole through the menu he’s perusing. Cas acknowledges Kelvin with a look of his own: a raised brow and pursed lips.

            “Your opinion is recognized,” Cas tells him, folding the menu, “but highly unnecessary.” He motions for the waitress over. “Two burgers, medium well. Deluxe. And what pie do you have?”

            “Apple.”

            “A slice of that, please. And beer.”

            She takes it all down, and then leaves with the menus. Kelvin raises his own brow at Castiel’s order.

            “Have you truly been living with the humans for that long, Castiel?”

            “What? Oh, no,” Cas says, shaking his head, “Dean should be here any minute. Knowing him, the only thing he’ll have had were the candy bars he _thinks_ Sam and I don’t know he’s hidden in his car.”

            “That’s ridiculous-“

            The bell chimes and Dean strolls in, looking for a familiar trench coat. He spots Cas and instantly lights up, waving. The closer he gets, the more the happiness falls from his face as it’s replaced with confusion.

            He slides in too close to Cas and asks, “Who’s he?”

            “Dean, this is Kelvin,” Cas says, mouth taught, “he’s an angel-“

            “An angel?“ Dean looks at Cas, “Cas, are you sure? I mean, last time-“

            “Dean, please,” Cas stops him, hand on his arm, “trust me. I’ll… explain later.”

            Dean frowns, but the expression painted across Cas’s big blue eyes has him sighing in defeat. He turns to Kelvin, plasters on a big grin and extends a hand.

            “Dean Winchester,” Kelvin greets, mouth curled downwards, “I’ve heard much about you.”

            “And the only thing I know about _you_ is that you share a name with a temperature,” Dean says sarcastically. Kelvin tries to respond when a deep rumble cuts him off. Dean sheepishly looks down.

            “Sorry,” Dean smirks, patting his stomach, “chocolate can only last you so long.”

            Cas shoots Kelvin a knowing look before turning to Dean. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I already ordered for you.”

            The waitress takes her cue and drops the plate in front of Cas, sliding the bottle along the table.

            “I’ll be back with your pie in a bit, sweetheart,” she winks, moving to another table.

            Cas pushes the plate towards Dean. He’s looking at Cas with a soft smile.

            “Pie?”

            “Apple.”

            “You’re the best,” Dean smiles, winking, “ _sweetheart_.”

            “Just start eating,” Cas laughs, knocking at Dean’s shoulder with his own. Dean takes his cue and starts shoveling it in to the amusement of Cas and the disgust of Kelvin.

            Between bites of his second burger, he starts talking. “So,” he chews, “what’s with the lead?”

            “Dagon has a network of associates,” Kelvin explains, “a sect of demons who serves her and only her. The Heavenly Host was able to track down the weakest of her sect at two possible locations.”

            “Which are?”

            “The first, Kelvin and I already checked before you got here,” Castiel says, “it was a warehouse just outside of town, we decided to check because we were coming in that way.”

            “And the other?”

            “Residential,” Kelvin explains, “in the suburbs. Probably blending in.”

            “Probably,” Dean parrots, swallowing the last bite of burger. He’s almost done with the fries when the waitress brings the pie around. Dean thanks her, and smiles at the pastry.

            “You really get me, Cas,” Dean says around the fork, moaning as the filling fills his mouth. Cas blushes and looks down. Kelvin squints.

            “If you’ll excuse me,” Kelvin stands, “I need to make a phone call.” He doesn’t wait for either Cas or Dean to acknowledge him before walking out the door.

            Dean turns to Cas, “So, now that the wet blanket’s gone, mind telling me why you brought him along in the first place?”

            “Kelvin helped me find the demon,” Cas answers, thumbs tapping against each other nervously. He can’t look Dean in the eyes. “He’s back-up.”

            “I’m back-up,” Dean says, putting a hand over Cas’s to stop his thumbs, “I’m also family.”

            “Yes, you’re my family,” Cas nods, “But… so is he.”

            “Cas, didn’t Heaven… disown you?”

            “They-they did,” Cas coughs out, looking down, “but… with Kelly and her baby, the Host has put a lot into… perspective.”

            “What does that mean?”

            “They want me back,” Cas turns to him. “Want me to be a part of Heaven once more. Joshua-he’s leading Heaven and… we talked.”

            A cold pit settles in Dean’s stomach. He feels like the seat has dropped out from under him and he’s falling.

            “Huh.”

            “Huh?” Cas blinks, “Is… is that all?”

            “What? Sorry, Cas, s’just… a lot to take in,” Dean shakes his head, looking away, “So… Heaven’s finally realized they made a mistake letting you go?”

            Cas smiles at him, “It would seem.”

            “And you… you want to go back?”

            “I do miss it, Dean,” Cas sighs, “Heaven was my home for the longest of time. The angels were my brothers and sisters, my… my _family_.”

            “Right,” Dean takes another bite of his pie, the taste going stale so quickly.

            Cas tilts his head at him, looking right through him with burning blue eyes. Dean can feel a tingle where Cas’s stare scorches him. He takes one more bite before he can’t take it anymore. He takes out his wallet and tosses a couple of bills onto the table.

            “Come on,” Dean stands now, “Kelvin’s probably finished with his call or whatever.”

            Castiel opens his mouth, words at the tip of his tongue, before he swallows them and nods. He gets up and follows Dean, but the hunter knows that Cas will want to speak with him later.

            With them, it’s always later. 

* * *

 

           Nightfall comes sooner than expected. One by one, the lights in the cul-de-sac go out, until only the street lamps are left. Dean, from where he’s parked, sees Cas and Kelvin making their way back. He climbs out and joins them.

            “So,” he asks, “what’d you find?”

            “The house is warded,” Cas says, frowning, “we won’t be getting in.”

            Dean gives him a crooked smile, “Looks like it’s a good thing I came after all.”

            “Yes,” Kelvin agrees, “you do have your use after all.”

            The smile falls from Dean’s face, turning to shoot the other angel a glare. Cas draws his attention back with a touch of his hand.

            “Dean,” Cas starts, “you don’t have to go in-“

            “Cas, it’s okay,” Dean says, grabbing Cas’s arm, “I’m not a B&E virgin.”

            “Yes, but, this isn’t an ordinary demon.”

            “Say what?”

            “Dagon’s followers,” Cas explains, “are a cabal of trained elites and, while they enjoy their many vices, are stronger, faster, and capable than your ordinary demon. Even her weakest, Kroni.”

            “Cas, I’m sure this won’t be any different than all the other demons we’ve faced,” Dean smiles, “although it’s nice to hear you worry about me.”

            “I always worry.”

            Dean blushes. He’s about to say something when Kelvin’s coughing interrupts the moment. The two turn.

            “As touching as this is,” he frowns, “we have a mission.”

            Cas steps back. “Of course.” He gives one final nod at Dean before he follows Kelvin into the shadows. Dean watches him leave before moving towards the house. He slinks up the steps, thankful for the dark cover of the overhead porch roof. Taking one final peek behind him for caution, he kneels down and pulls out his kit. It doesn’t take long before the door is open.

            He slips in, careful not to make too large a sound. Dean pulls out his flashlight, searching the hallway. There’s a small photo hanging above a shoe rack, and Dean checks behind it. Like he expected, there’s a small sigil carved into the panel behind it.

            ‘ _This is going to be easy._ ’

            Dean takes out his angel blade and slashes a little notch through the original carving. It lights for a second before fading back into the wood.

            “One down,” Dean whispers, “whatever left to go.”

            Dean continues working through the house. He goes slow and silent, conscious to not wake the demon sleeping upstairs. There were a few close calls: a dropped vase, a squeaky floorboard. Thankfully the demon is a heavy sleeper.

            He’s in the kitchen, the last place to check on the first floor. There’s a little window above the sink, and Dean can just make out the familiar tan trench coat.

            ‘ _One more Dean,_ ’ he thinks, ‘ _let’s wrap this up quick_.’

            He checks the cabinets, moving things out of the way, holding the flashlight with his teeth. Finding, nothing, Dean moves on, and repeats this a few more times.

            ‘ _Where the hell is this thing?_ ’

            Just when he checks the pantry, he hears the gun clicking at his back.

            “Out of the closet.”

            Dean puts his hands up, sliding the angel blade into his jacket sleeve. He turns around slowly, getting a look at the demon in front of him.

            Kroni wears a middle-aged man, doughy, with balding hair and old-wire frame glasses.

            “Don’t try anything funny,” Kroni whispers, jabbing Dean in the guy with the rifle, “I’ll pull the trigger faster than you can-“

            Dean bats the rifle down, knocking it out of Kroni’s hands and away from them. He uses his other hand to throw a mean right hook, sending Kroni to the floor, glasses shattering underneath.

            Kroni looks up at Dean just as he slides the angel blade back out. Kroni stares at it, then smiles, eyes shadowing over into darkness.

            “Hunter,” Kroni hisses, “You picked the _wrong_ demon to mess with.”

            He launches forward with renewed strength, and Dean barely has time to dodge his attack. He ducks, steps to the side, but the kick to his ribs has him sprawling to the ground.

            Kroni straddles him, reaching for the blade. Dean fights him for it, grappling against the demon’s strong grip with one of his own. Where Dean has both his hands on the hilt, Kroni has a loose hold on the blade, uncaring of the blood dripping down his palm. He smiles at Dean, teeth yellow and sharp. With his other hand, he starts to pummel Dean anywhere and everywhere he can.

            By the fifth time he’s punched Dean in the head, it starts getting blurry. Dean figures he has a concussion from all the times his head was knocked into the concrete floor, but he doesn’t give up.

            He starts wriggling, and soon enough breaks a foot free to kick Kroni off of him. Dean breathes, looking to the side. There, on the wood lining under the bottom cabinets, Dean can see the sigil. He turns over and crawls, pulling himself forward with shaky hands.

            The angel blade is loosely held as he holds it forward.

            “I don’t think so.”

            Kroni stomps on his wrist, breaking it. Dean cries out in pain, dropping the weapon. Kroni snatches the blade, propping Dean up on the cabinets and smirking at him.

            “You know,” Kroni starts, “I didn’t recognize you- at first. But now… _Dean Winchester_ … wanna know what’s gonna happen next.”

            Dean spits some blood at Kroni, only for the demon to slap him across the side of his face. He grabs Dean by his hear and drags him closer to his face.

            “I’m gonna kill you-“

            “Step away from him!”

            Kroni startles, looking over his shoulder at where Castiel and Kelvin stand, their own angel blades drawn. He snarls, turning back to glare at Dean, then over at the sigil he carved years ago, only to find it scratched.

            “Too slow, Kroni,” Dean laughs.

            “I won’t ask again,” Castiel moves forward, blade gripped tight, “surrender and we promise to go easy on you.”

            “Surrender this!”

            Kroni shoves the blade into Dean’s side, startling a pained groan out of the hunter.

            “No!”

            Castiel moves forward, attacking Kroni. The demon turns and walks right into Castiel’s blade, sliding himself up until he’s face-to-face with the angel.

            “You’ll never find Dagon,” he laughs, “Lucifer & his son will reign…” His eyes flash, bones electrifying before he slumps over dead. Castiel frowns, pushing Kroni off his blade before running to Dean’s side.

            “Dean… Dean!”

            Cas puts his hand over Dean’s, smearing Dean’s blood all over his palm. Dean looks at Cas with bleary eyes.

            “S’okay, Cas,” Dean whispers, “just a flesh wound.”

            Cas lets loose a watery chuckle before pushing Dean’s hand aside. Cas pulls the blade out of Dean before he covers the wound with his own hand. Cas’s eyes light up, the blue glowing faintly. He starts healing him, the broken flesh weaving back together under his care.

            Dean stares at Cas’s eyes.

            “…Pretty.”

            “Rest easy, Dean,” Cas says, “you deserve it.”

            Cas lets Dean slump onto his shoulder, having passed out from the pain. Castiel casts one last fond look at Dean before turning to Kelvin. The other angel glares angrily at him, standing over the dead demon.

            “What?”

            “We _needed_ him, Castiel.”

            Cas moves Dean to rest gingerly on the floor. He stands and shrugs, “He was one of many.”

            “The one we knew where to find!” Kelvin shouts, “Do you know how long that took, too? How many of our brothers and sisters it took, out risking their lives, to find one address?”

            “Their work would have been in vain,” Cas tells him, “He would never have cooperated-“

            “And how do you know?” Kelvin growls, stalking into Cas’s personal space, “If it was just us-we could have taken him. If I had gotten my hands on him, he would have talked-“

            “His eyes.”

            “…What?”

            “Kelvin, right before he died, I could see it in his eyes,” Cas explains, “There was nothing you or I or even the complete fury of the Heavenly Host could have done to tell us anything. Lucifer inspires… _madness_.”

            “Oh, really,” Kelvin glares, crossing his arms, “are you sure?”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “I mean,” he chuckles darkly, “Are you sure you aren’t saying that to cover for your mistake?”

            Cas squints back at him. “And what mistake do you believe I have made?”

            “Bringing your human,” Kelvin spits out, “letting him come in here and mess things up-“

            Kelvin is pressed against the counter in seconds, shirt collar balled in Cas’s fists. Cas’s eyes glow bright blue.

            “Listen, Kelvin, since you are my brother I will only explain this _once_ ,” Cas starts, “Dean Winchester is no _mistake_. He’s my family, just as much as you are-“

            “Is he?” Kelvin laughs, “Brother, it’s clear where we both stand to you.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “How much can something grow in a blink of a second?” Kelvin asks, “How does a few years outshine millennia?”

            “The fact that you’re even asking me,” Cas says, “means you wouldn’t understand if I explained.” Cas backs off, leaving Kelvin leaning against the counter. They stare at each other for a beat.

            “So you choose him, then?”

            “No.”

            Kelvin startles.

            “And before you get ahead of yourself,” Cas continues, “that doesn’t mean I’m choosing you either. In fact, I reject it.”

            “What?”

            “This notion of choosing,” Cas shrugs, “Why should I have to choose between my family if I don’t want to. I don’t want it to come to that-I _never_ do. But that requires work on all sides.”

            “Now what does that mean?”

            Castiel moves to Dean’s side and hefts him up, letting him lean against his side, tugging his arm around his shoulder. Cas looks at Kelvin. “It means you can’t just _tolerate_ the Winchesters. You need to accept them as you have done me.”

            “Castiel-“

            “I’m not demanding it, nor asking for it to happen overnight,” Cas continues, “I _want_ to be a part of the Host once more, but I’m a package deal now. I’m as much a Winchester as I am angel.”

            “…It shows.”

            Cas’s mouth forms a tight line. “Now, go back to Joshua and report to him what happened here. But before you do that, sweep the house for any clues and dispose of Kroni.”

            “How will I get back to-!“

            He barely has time to catch the keys before they hit the floor.

            “Call me when you get the next lead,” Cas says, moving towards the exit, “and don’t scratch her.”

            Cas carries Dean out the back door, leaving Kelvin alone in the house. Kelvin frowns, and then crouches down next to the demon.

            “He’s lucky we’re so concerned with Lucifer’s spawn,” he says to the body, “and that there’s no chance he’ll sire his own.”

            Cas makes quick work of the walk to Baby. He gets the keys from Dean’s pocket and opens the passenger side first. He tucks Dean into the seat, each movement as slow and careful as possible. Cas straps him in before moving to the driver’s seat and climbing in.

            “Hello, girl,” Cas whispers, caressing the wheel, “I hope you trust me like you do your owner.” He starts it, Baby purring sweetly for him. Cas smiles.

            Ten minutes on the road, Dean starts stirring. He turns to his left and pops open a bleary eye.

            “Cas?” Dean mumbles, “wha… you drivin’ Baby?”

            “Yes, Dean.”

            “…Okay.” He slips back into unconsciousness not soon after. 

* * *

 

            The next time Dean wakes up, it’s because of the sunlight streaming in through the window. He blinks awake, squinting against the brightness. He yawns, pulling himself up.

            “Good, you’re awake.”

            Dean startles, turning towards Cas. The angel is perched on a nearby chair, folding a newspaper and smiling at Dean.

            “Cas?” Dean asks. Then, it hits him. He moves a hand towards his side, only to find unblemished skin. He looks down.

            “I healed you,” Cas tells him, “not a lot, just the largest wound.”

            Dean looks down at his bare chest, tattoo clear against his pale skin. He raises a brow, “Did your grace also undress me?”

            Cas blushes, looking away. “Ah, no,” he confesses, “that would be me. I didn’t want to stain the sheets.

            Dean smiles at him, pulling the covers and sitting. He looks around the room.

            “Where’s the angel of temperature?”

            “Kelvin is reporting back to Joshua,” Castiel says.

            Dean nods. “So did Kroni say anything important?”

            “No,” Castiel pouts, “Right after he stabbed you, he jumped onto my blade.”

            “Well someone’s not a Chatty Cathy,” Dean snorts, “What did Kelvin have to say about it?”

            “He… wasn’t happy.”

            Dean frowns at Castiel’s answer, but thinks nothing of it.

            “Well, anyway Cas, thanks for letting me tag along,” Dean shrugs, giving Cas his biggest grin. It manages to produce a smaller one on Cas’s face.

            “Anytime, Dean,” Cas says.

            “So,” Dean, glutton for punishment, starts, “when you gotta go back?”

            “What?”

            “To Heaven?” Dean continues, “I mean, now that I’m awake, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to handle then take care of me.”

            Cas tilts his head in confusion. “Dean, taking care of you is something important.”

            Dean blushes, looking away. He scratches his head, “Not to Heaven.”

            “Probably not,” Cas confesses, “but it’s important to _me_.”

            Dean’s face only gets redder. It spreads down his neck and making his shoulders look pink.

            “Why you gotta do that, Cas?”

            Cas smiles, “Do what?”

            “You know,” Dean laughs, “You know _what_. And… you still do it, even though you gotta leave in the end.”

            Instantly, Cas’s smile falls into a frown. “What?”

            “It’s okay, really,” Dean turns to him, fixing him a bittersweet smile, “I understand how much Heaven means to you and-and I wouldn’t want to stand in the way between you and-“

            “Dean,” Cas stops him, walking over to the bed and sitting next to him, “What are you talking about?”

            “I mean,” Dean flushes, mumbling, “I assumed… now that you’re working with Heaven again… it’ll be back to the same old-same old.”

            “Dean,” Cas sighs, shaking his head, “too many things have happened for us to go back to before.”

            “That’s the truth,” Dean sighs, “Angels falling… Darkness and God… Mom coming back, her ‘n’ Sammy hitching up with the British jerks-“

            “What?”

            Dean bites his cheek, pouting. He doesn’t look Cas in the eyes. He doesn’t need to.

            “So that’s why you’re mad at Sam,” Castiel guesses, “Because he didn’t tell you about joining.”

            Dean deflates, letting his shoulders sag. He leans into Cas, body going slack.

            “He’s an adult,” Dean starts, “I keep saying that, over and over again. He can make his own choices, work with whoever he wants but…”

            “But?”

            “But he shouldn’t have dragged me along,” Dean growls, “I told him how I felt about those jerks, and he made me do _jobs_ for them. I felt… feel… _used_.”

            “And, the worst part is,” Dean continues, “I know Sam was taking me along to show me how ‘great’ these guys were, how their network means we would never have to go without hunting y’know? Back to being sharp little knives, ready and waiting to be pointed at our next target-“

            “Dean!”

            “And I know I said I’d work with them,” Dean confesses, “Told Sam he might be right, about how better it would be to have an organization behind us, but I can’t help feel I sold a piece of my soul after that. Even though Sam promised me we’d bail whenever they proved their douche-dom, there’s a voice inside my head that won’t stop whispering about how they… _won_. And I hate it. I hate them. Hate how good their weapons and their network is because it only justifies their jerkiness. Hate how Mom and Sam took their side in the end and made me choose between family and peace of mind.”

            Dean trails off after that, closing his eyes, focusing on his breathing and Cas’s smell. There’s a light pressure on his back, and he leans into it. Cas’s fingers dance across his spine, letting him know he’s there.

            “Dean,” Cas whispers into Dean’s hair, “I wish we didn’t have to make such difficult decisions all the time.”

            Dean chuckles. “So do I, Cas,” he mumbles, “Wish it was like _this_ all the time.”

            “Sam was only doing what he thought would convince you best,” Cas reasons, “knowing you’d shut down any conversation on the matter.”

            “More than likely.”

            “And I’m not saying he was right, making you work for them unknowingly,” Cas continues, “I know how awful it is to be pulled at the strings.”

            “It sucks ass.”

            “That it does.”

            Cas continues trailing his fingers up and down Dean’s spine. Dean sighs, content to just sit there for the rest of the day with Cas. But he knows he can’t.

            “I’m not mad at them… I still love them,” Dean finishes, looking up at Cas, “I just need… space.”

            “After everything you’ve been through Dean, you need more than just ‘space’.”

            “No rest for the wicked,” Dean winks at him, sitting at full height. Cas’s hands still before falling away. Dean follows them for a beat before he stops himself.

            “So…”

            “So…”

            “After Kelly,” Dean starts, broaching the subject, “what are you going to do?”

            “Stay here with you,” Cas answers immediately, “Of course.”

            Dean’s mouth drops open in surprise. His eyes are wide and glassy. He tries to say something, but the words choke, make it hard to breath. He clears his throat, and tears his gaze away from Cas’s honest one.

            “You don’t…” Dean chuckles, “You could have Heaven… your _home_ back.”

            “Dean, _you_ are my home.”

            Dean whips his back around, drawn back into Cas’s orbit. The angel looks at Dean with a small smile. His eyes shine bright blue, not from his grace but from emotion.

            “When you,” Dean says, “When you were in the barn… you said… I just-I never said it back.”

            “Did you want to?”

            “I always want to,” Dean says, “I’ve been wanting to for a long time.”

            Their lips touch. Cas pulls Dean tighter into his embrace, pouring everything into their first kiss. Dean matches Cas with his own, gripping Cas’s hair for balance.

            Cas pushes Dean down onto the bed, fingers dancing across Dean’s ribcage. Dean smiles, removing a hand to pull at Cas’s tie.

            He pulls away, “What are you doing, Dean?”

            “I feel awkward,” Dean answers, “the only one without a shirt? Thought I shouldn’t be alone.”

            “You won’t,” Cas smiles, ripping the shirt apart, dropping it along with the suit jacket and trench coat, “Not while I’m here.” Dean’s eyes glaze over at the action, blood pooling down towards his crotch.

            “Cas,” Dean growls, “if you don’t get back down here I’m-“

            “Shush, Dean,” Cas smiles, kissing Dean once more. Dean licks at the seam of Cas’s lips, teasing for access.  

            Cas lets him in, savoring Dean’s taste. They stay like this for a while. Between kisses they hump against each other, building up speed and pressure.

            After grinding against a certain spot on Cas’s thigh, Dean comes with a prayer on his lips. He sees wings. Cas doesn’t last long after that. Hearing Dean scream his name has Cas following, making a mess in his suit pants.

            They pull apart, a scant few inches of space between them, breathing each other in.

            “That was…”

            “Yeah.”

            Cas stars at Dean. Dean wants to look away, but cannot pull himself from the intensity of Cas’s gaze.

            Cas smiles, “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

            “I love you, too,” Dean says, kissing Cas one more time. Cas falls to the side, curling into Dean. Dean plays with the wild strands of Cas’s hair. They don’t talk, they just exist for a bit.

            Soon enough, Cas breaks the silence.

            “What do you want to do now?”

            “Honestly,” Dean laughs, “I wouldn’t mind staying like this…”

            “But?”

            “I _do_ have to eat,” Dean sits up, looking over at Cas, “And I was thinking…”

            Cas props himself up on his fist. “What were you thinking, Dean?”

            “We’re in Colorado,” Dean shrugs, “Might as well enjoy _all_ of it.” 

* * *

 

            In the Brits’ temporary base, Sam focuses down on the map spread out on the table, watching as Davies draws the migration patterns of a few packs of werewolves for the assembled group. Mary watches with keen interest, while Sam has to ignore Ketch split his interest between the map and Mary. 

            “Sam, I was thinking you’d lead a squadron and flank them… here,” Davies points out on the map, “And I was hoping Dean could…”

            “Even if I knew where he was, he wouldn’t.”

            Davies sighs, “Of course.”

            “God,” Ketch grumbles, “when is your brother going to suck it up and come back from his tantrum?”

            “Hey,” Sam turns, defending Dean, “I said he agreed to help. He just… needs some time.”

            “When I get upset, I just go on missions,” Ketch shrugs, “I’m sure we can toss some his way to do solo.”

            “Dean doesn’t gut his feelings out of monsters, Ketch,” Mary says, glaring at the hunter.

            Ketch looks away uncomfortable. “Could’ve fooled me,” he mutters.

            Sam sighs, about to speak, when his phone flashes on the table. He looks down, blinking as Dean’s name pops up across his screen.

            “Who is it?” Mary asks.

            “It’s… Dean.”

            “Did he finally get his panties untwisted?”

            The ‘oof’ that follows has Mary smirking proudly at herself. Ketch winces, cradling his stomach.

            Sam opens the message, and gapes. Mary looks at him in concern.

            “Sam?” she asks, reaching for him across the table, “What’s wrong?”

            “Huh? Oh, no-nothing,” Sam says, shaking himself out of his stupor, “But… I don’t think Dean will be joining us for awhile.”

            “Why do you say that?” Davies asks, frowning.

            Sam shows them the photo Dean sent. Dean and Cas are under the covers of their motel bed, shirtless. Cas is turned onto one side, laughing, eyes crinkled at the sheer joy he’s expressing. Dean, however, is directly facing the camera. He’s laughing as well, green eyes bright with something Sam has never seen before.

            Following the picture was a short message:

            **_On hiatus._**

            “The angel?” Ketch scoffs, “He’s sleeping with the mon-“

            Davies shoots Ketch a look, and the assassin halts his protests. He sits back quietly, arms folded. Davies tries to hide his disgust, but even through his neutral expression, his disbelief and anger at the situation is evident.

            Mary takes the phone from Sam’s hands. She brings it close to her and squints. She looks up at Sam.

            “…Why are their eyes red?”

**Author's Note:**

> So you like? Let me know! Drop a kudos, a comment, or both!


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